


on the rocks

by moonsprite



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cigarettes, F!Reader - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Host Clubs, Host!Kuroo, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, Swearing, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24460141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonsprite/pseuds/moonsprite
Summary: He’s very good at seduction, but you don’t make him want to anymore. You don’t even know his name.(host!Kuroo AU)
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader
Comments: 10
Kudos: 60





	1. Pink Lady

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr @sosugasweet, now adding it here! Kuroo is 23 and Reader is 24 in this AU. Enjoy!

Another night, another round of drinks and chatter about someone’s dress, someone’s stupid boyfriend, someone’s designer bag, someone’s celebrity crush.

It all feels meaningless tonight, the syrupy-sweet voices of his regular customers grating unusually harshly on his mind. He does his job well of course, as one of the top hosts of this establishment, maintaining a suave smile and winking from time to time as the champagne tower visits their table for the third time that night. The same routine feels old, and he wonders if he’ll be able to snap out it before the boss does his rounds.

Then he’s told that there is a new customer who’s requested for him. Thankful for the opportunity to get up and move around, he claps the other host on the shoulder before smoothly excusing himself from the table, the two women in shimmering dresses sadly waving goodbye.

He spots you right away, sitting on the side in a dimly lit booth. It’s clear from the first glance that you don’t belong here, that you haven’t been in this kind of place before. No matter, it would be his job to make you feel welcome.

As he slides into the plush seat across from you, he offers you a kind smile.

"Welcome, miss. The name’s Leo. First time here?"

With a quick gesture, he signals for someone to bring a glass of water. You thank him when the water arrives, and take a cautious sip. 

"So what brings a lady like you here?" 

Your honest response makes him offer a soft smile. It isn’t that unusual for someone to come to a host club to chat, but admittedly many customers develop emotional attachments to the men here and some have higher expectations. Some too high, as he has personally experienced. But that doesn’t seem to be the case with you.

You talk about your hardships at work, at first hesitant, but he encourages you to open up and vent. In turn, he talks about his struggles when he used to work part-time at a ramen shop. You’re a surprisingly good listener, as he catches himself saying more than he usually does. Realizing he has been talking for a while, he asks if you’d like a drink. You smile and order a lightly fruity cocktail, your fingers brushing against his on the drink menu. He almost flinches uncharacteristically, and turns around to collect himself as he signals for someone to bring the drink.

For some strange reason, he can’t bring himself to leave you sitting here, face half overcast in shadow. Surely the other hosts would treat you well, but seeing the exhaustion in your eyes and the way your teeth worry your bitten lips makes him want to stay, to make sure that you’ll be alright.

The drink comes, and you smile at the cute coaster under it, saying it reminds you of your childhood pet cat. You ask if he’s ever had a cat, and he admits that he was always too busy to own one but he often visited the cat café his friend ran. Your eyes brighten suddenly, and you begin to talk excitedly about your favorite experience at a cat café. Mesmerized by your many expressions, he forgets to speak until he realizes that you are looking at him expectantly.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

You pout, then furrow your brows anxiously. "Were you that distracted? Did I talk too much about cats?"

He waves his hands quickly, denying your worries.

"Sorry, you just looked so cute talking about the café, I got distracted."

You blush, and he nearly follows suit, realizing a second later what he said. Habits die hard, as they say.

"You don’t have to say things like that to me, you know. But I’ll just take it as a compliment," you laugh and take another sip from your drink.

He knows he shouldn’t, but he stays with you for the rest of your visit, chatting about cats and humidity, the refreshing feeling of rain after a heat wave, and your favorite rides in the amusement park as a kid. When you leave, a bright smile on your face, he waves goodbye before rubbing a hand over his eyes, trying to pull himself together before meeting the next customer.

He’s very good at seduction. But you don’t make him want to anymore.


	2. Pisco Sour

The next time he sees you, your conversation is continuously stunted and he can’t help but wonder what has you so attached to your phone tonight, your fingers tapping out a nervous rhythm against the table.

A quick glance when you finally set it down to take a sip of your drink gives him an idea, but the downwards turn of your mouth urges him to ask anyway.

"Oh, sorry about that! It’s just that I haven’t heard from my boyfriend in a while. He’s been really busy with work and overtime lately, so we haven’t had a proper date in ages. He said his project should finish up this week, so I’m just waiting to hear back."

Your lockscreen is of you standing next to your boyfriend in front of Tokyo Tower, his arm looped around your shoulders. Kuroo idly wonders if your boyfriend will be worried about you coming to a host club.

"I know it’s probably not the best idea, but I just felt lonely and I don’t have anyone else to reach out to." You offer a laugh, sharp and dry.

Crap, did he say that out loud? He was about to apologize for bringing it up when you continued speaking, smiling self-deprecatingly as your fingers softly traced the rim of your glass.

"I just can’t push my stress and emotions onto my boyfriend when he’s working so hard, you know? He’s been trying to get a promotion, and I don’t want to worry him with my own issues too."

Kuroo nods understandingly as you down the rest of your drink, but really he’s starting to have his doubts. Still, he doesn’t feel like he can probe so he settles for offering you a glass of water. You smile and ask if you could order another drink instead. You don’t seem drunk, but he chooses to err on the side of caution and suggests a lighter cocktail that you easily agree to.

"Leo, did you know? My boyfriend used to say that he could get the moon for me if I asked, and it would still look dim compared to my eyes. But your eyes remind me of stars, golden and bright even in the darkness."

Kuroo coughs sharply, the forlorn look you give him, head tilted and chin resting on your hand, making him half-choke on his drink. He clears his throat before putting on his best smile, the edges of his mouth straining to remember his work manners.

"If my eyes are stars, yours must be planets because they make people gravitate towards you."

He internally grimaces at his attempt, but you suddenly lean back with a hearty laugh.

"Leo, you are a charmer, but I still think the world deserves to have the taste of your ramen."

Kuroo huffs in fake indignation, setting his glass down on the table.

"I’ll have you know I - "

His retort is interrupted by the soft tinkling of your phone, and you glance at it before offering him an apologetic smile.

"Thank you again, Leo. Good night!"

Kuroo watches you leave, the heady scent of jasmine and patchouli wafting about in your wake. He scrunches his nose in surprise, not expecting you to wear such a mature, spicy fragrance. Then again, did he even know enough about you to think that at all? 

Resisting the urge to run a hand through his set hair, Kuroo wonders if he’ll see you again, but a gut feeling tells him that something about your boyfriend seems oddly familiar and he won’t have to wait long to find out why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact #1 - Each chapter is named after a cocktail! That was partly the reason for the series title as well :)


	3. Sidecar

Neon signs flicker throughout the darkening streets like lanterns, trying to attract the various people filtering between the buildings like moths. To Kuroo, this view has become more or less a regular sight to him. No matter how highly ranked the host, the boss believed that everyone needs to keep their heads in the game by regularly ‘rushing the streets,’ as he calls it. 

Adjusting the signboard advertising the club, he straightens his jacket and scopes tonight’s crowd for potential customers. A businessman going home after work, or perhaps to a bar to drink off the stress of the day. Girls dressed in maid outfits advertising the karaoke bar down the street. Four young men, probably college-age, adorned in too many chains and buckles, clinking and clanking boisterously as they saunter into a basement level nightclub. A man in a drab khaki jacket that Kuroo doesn’t look twice at, but with no one else of interest walking by, his eyes follow the man as he enters the nearby corner store. Five minutes later, the same man emerges, a pack of cigarettes in one hand and a black plastic bag in the other, and it finally clicks: Tokyo Tower.

Kuroo has seen him around a lot lately. Specifically, almost every Monday and Wednesday night around this time for the past few weeks, if his memory isn’t failing him. Weird, but someone regularly buying a pack of cigarettes from the same corner store for a while isn’t a crime. As he wordlessly watches the man mouth a cigarette while patting his pockets for a lighter, the man’s phone rings.

Shoving the cigarette pack in his coat pocket, the man tugs out his phone and quickly answers it, a smile on his face as he walks past Kuroo down the street.

“Oh, Akane-san? Don’t worry, I just went out to get a pack of smokes… Mhm, I’ll be right up in a minute... Of course I didn’t forget!”

Kuroo glances at the plastic bag in the man’s hand as he passes by. He has a sinking feeling that the boxy silhouette lightly rustling in the bag isn’t another pack of cigarettes. 

✥✥✥✥✥

“I can’t believe it’s already been over four years,” you muse as you look through some old photos. You had just intended to clean up your phone storage, but nostalgia had pulled you head-first into reminiscing about college. More specifically, the face smiling back at you from the screen that you saw less and less of as time had passed.

The two of you had gone through a lot together: first kisses, first times, first drink, birthdays, passed exams, failed exams. You remember how it took you ages to process the death of your childhood cat, and how Tadao had been there for you, to hold you tight when the going got too rough and your eyes were so swollen it hurt to blink. The first time one of your short stories was published in the school newsletter, you swear he was somehow more excited than you were, spinning you about in his arms and declaring that you were going out for dinner tonight, no excuses.

Your phone dings, and your fingers slip across the screen in your hurry to read the notification. Just someone posting about the latest cake they tried at some beautiful cafe. Out of habit, you check your messages. The last text from him was three hours ago: “Sorry, won’t be able to go home tonight. Don’t wait up.”

Mondays were always like this, he rarely came home before morning. Letting out a small sigh, you decide to pull yourself together and clean up a little bit. As you pick up one of Tadao’s jackets slung on the back of a kitchen chair, something falls out onto the ground. A white pack of cigarettes stares back at you, half empty. Since when did he smoke? You wonder just how much he’s changed since graduation while you weren’t looking. Slipping the box back into the pocket, you hang the jacket up in the hallway closet.

As you return to your shared room to get ready for bed, the glass bottle of perfume sitting on the side of your dresser catches your attention. It was his gift to you in celebration of your promotion a few months ago. But sometimes it felt like the only reminder that he was still thinking of you amid the sporadic texts, late nights feeling him roll into bed next to you but finding him gone the next morning, and promises of dates broken at the last minute. Still, he did his share of the chores and you always found the laundry rolling in the dryer when you woke up on Sunday morning. 

You let out a sigh as you collapsed into bed. Maybe you’d dab a little on before going to the office tomorrow as a pick-me-up. He’d said it was a mature fragrance, and you could do with some confidence and energy for your meeting with the head editor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact #2 - The Sidecar is traditionally a combination of cognac, orange liqueur, and lemon juice. The story of its name is debated and vague, as with many cocktails.


	4. Dark N' Stormy

Fortunately enough, your presentation for the head editor goes smoothly so you are able to get off of work early. Faced with this extra time, you decide to do the laundry early. Folding your clothes was a mundane yet soothing task to keep your mind off of things, and you felt like you could use that now.

As you go through the pile of freshly dried clothes, you find a pair of women’s underwear that isn’t yours. It’s too lacy, too luxurious to the touch. You chew your bottom lip as you think about the possibility that someone else’s laundry got mixed with yours. Could you have brought it home from work? You’ve had late nights at work before, sometimes requiring you to stay overnight to crunch out a document or project, but nothing that would cause you to end up with a pair of underwear you’ve never seen before and don’t remember buying. Feeling the silky texture, you know you wouldn’t buy underwear this high quality on your currently mediocre salary. Going to talk with Leo was all your current budget allowed for.

If you didn’t bring it here, then - 

You shut down that train of thought as soon as it appears, crumpling the idea and throwing it out the window. How could you do that to him? You had to trust him. That was a key part of being in a relationship, right? And you might just be jumping to conclusions. You know you should probably just ask Tadao about it, but you’re not sure you want to hear his answer.

Unsure what to do, for now you put the underwear in a plastic bag, take a picture of it in case you forget about it, and bury the bag at the bottom of your underwear drawer. With that out of the way, you continue folding the rest of the laundry and do your best not to think about it.

But two days pass and it’s still all you can think about, your phone with the picture burning a hole in your pocket. Eventually you decide to go talk to the one person you feel like you can ask: Leo.

✥✥✥✥✥

Another night, another round of drinks and chatter. Fortunately tonight isn’t very busy, and Kuroo’s mind begins to wander as his gaze lands upon the drink someone just ordered: it’s your usual. It’s been a week since he last saw you, and he hopes you’re doing alright. He feels a bit foolish to be worrying about you after only having talked with you four times, but he can’t get the lonely hunch of your shoulders out of his mind, the way your eyes light up when you talk about things that make you happy, the tremble of your lips when you try to act like everything is alright with your boyfriend.

Kuroo wonders why you bother to put up such a front when he’s essentially no one important in your life. 

He wonders if that has to be the case. 

Then you walk in, the door chime softly clanging behind you.

Seeing as he was about to go on break, Kuroo figures this would be a good chance to move to your table. Bidding his current table guests goodbye as they leave, he is about to turn around and ask someone to switch breaks with him when he sees you talking with another host. Before he can say anything, the man turns around and approaches Kuroo.

“She’s requested you, but I told her that you’re about to go on break. What do you want to do?”

Kuroo claps him on the arm in thanks. “I can talk with her. Want to switch breaks?”

With a laugh and a slightly intrigued look, the other host readily agrees and walks off to the back.

Kuroo heads over to your table, only to find you chewing your lip again, brows furrowed. You look up when he sits down. 

"Hey, what's got you so worried?" 

You show him a smile but it doesn't reach your eyes. "It's…" 

He sees you hesitate, and something in him longs to pull the deep-seated sadness out of you like a splinter. Instead he offers an easy way out, a soft shrug of the shoulders. 

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." 

At first it seems like you'll take his suggestion, since you glance at the drink menu. Then you look back up at him, gaze firm. 

"No, I need - I want to ask you something. For a friend."

Kuroo blinks, then motions for you to continue, unsure where you’re going with this.

You lay out the situation: almost four years of dating, living together, always busy with work, suddenly smoking, birthday present, the laundry, and finally, a foreign pair of women’s underwear. What does he think?

To Kuroo, the answer seems too easy - mocking, even, as it stares him in the face. But your expression tells him that you are completely serious. You actually want to know what he thinks, and it’s not difficult for him to realize that you’re talking about yourself.

Not wanting to be too hasty, Kuroo suggests that your friend ask their boyfriend about it. You look down and slowly open then shut your mouth, wordlessly. Maybe there was something else that made you hesitate? With all the other things you had told him about your relationship, he wouldn’t be surprised if you already had a bad feeling about what was going on. After all, if everything was fine, you wouldn’t have come all the way to the host club just to talk to him about a random piece of underwear.

Kuroo softly taps the table, getting you to look up at him, and suggests looking for other clues before drawing any final conclusions, since the underwear by itself isn’t a decisive piece of evidence of anything. He lets out a sigh of relief at your expression as it relaxes, your smile returning to your face as you voice your agreement.

Seemingly satisfied, you reach for the drink menu, and after a few seconds, name your regular order before resuming your conversation from last time.

“Hey Leo, I had some ramen last night for dinner and I kept thinking about your ketchup recipe so I did it… You were really onto something, you know? I might add sausage and relish if I try it again, what do you think?”

Your eyes sparkle with laughter, and Kuroo is torn between admiring them and processing what on earth you just said.

“What do you mean?? Then it’s just a hot dog in ramen!”

He tries to deadpan, but the corner of his mouth curves at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Ahahaha you’re right! No wonder it seemed so delicious!”

You guffaw, and Kuroo can’t help but let out a snort.

“I have no words… are you sure you can cook?” He eyes you, deliberately raising an eyebrow. 

You let out a ‘hmph’ at his words and cross your arms.

“I’ll have you know I can fry a mean egg, and my fried rice isn’t bad!”

Kuroo levels his gaze. ‘‘... Right.”

“Just because you worked in a ramen shop doesn’t mean you’re a chef!” You retort, pouting, and he can’t resist the urge to tease you.

“You’re right… none of my creations ever made it to the regular menu…” Kuroo looks away, dropping his shoulders into a slump.

“H-hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to -” You reach out to apologize, but are interrupted by raucous laughter.

Kuroo cackles.

“I’m messing with you, I’m pretty sure my roommate was going to murder me if I made him taste test one more of my experimental dishes.”

Seemingly embarrassed, you laugh and shrug off your jacket, fanning yourself with a hand.

“Ugh, it’s so hot in here!”

“Haha, sorry about that. Want me to leave?” Kuroo gives you a winning smirk.

“Yes, actually,” you reply nonchalantly, taking a leisurely sip of your drink. Apparently his smirk isn’t winning enough. 

“Sh - ok.”

Kuroo moves to get up when he’s interrupted by your turn to cackle, waving your hands to make him sit down.

“I was kidding, I like your company!”

Kuroo plops back into his seat, feigning composure. “Hmph, should have been honest to start with.”

You laugh and he joins in, the silliness of your conversation lifting his spirits. But what - or rather, who - he saw on the street earlier still weighs heavy in the back of his mind. Although he enjoys your laughter, he feels guilty not telling you.

Lowering his voice, he gestures for you to lean in closer. “A few days ago, I saw someone who looks a lot like your boyfriend around here…”

✥✥✥✥✥

Tadao heaves a sigh, setting the half-empty wine glass down on the table.

“I think we need to stop meeting for a while, she’s getting suspicious.”

“Stop meeting? Why are you even still with her? You know I can give you anything you want. She’s just a child.”

He watches the red liquid swirl around in her glass as she sets it down. The lamplight glints off the golden ring on her left hand, and he feels his chest tighten. He knows she’s just using him to fill the emptiness that her busy husband ignores, and yet he has been powerless under her lonely gaze since the beginning.

“I… I can’t let her find out about this. About us.”

She scoffs at his words and reaches over, painted fingernails digging into his thigh.

“If you leave me, I’ll tell her everything.”

Tadao bites down on his bottom lip. He has to tread carefully or he could lose her, his job, his reputation, and you in one fell swoop.

“Alright, I understand. After all, I could never stay apart from you for long.”

“Is that so? Then come here.” She smiles and tugs at his tie, circling her arms around his neck as she leans in. His arms circle around her like second nature, and his eyes close as he loses himself again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ngl, this chapter was hard to write, content-wise.  
> Fun Fact #3 - While I was writing this chapter, the story was feeling too down so I added some banter and Kuroo's cackle demanded to make an appearance. You know the one.


	5. Angel Face

"Woah, look who just walked in!"

Your typical afternoon at work is suddenly interrupted as a well-dressed woman enters the office and approaches the head editor’s desk. You can’t help but admire her poise and chic fashion, and it looks like most of your coworkers are in agreement, judging by the murmurs that fill the air.

"I heard that she’s here to talk with the head editor about the new department expansion!"

"Isn’t she a department head too? At that consultation firm!"

"She looks so put together and she’s great at her job… how does she do it? I need to know her secrets!"

After about thirty minutes, the woman emerges from a conference room with the head editor. As they part ways, she walks past your desk and you get a waft of a familiar smell. You blink - isn’t that the same as your perfume? But you didn’t spray any on today in the morning rush. You whip your head around to see her disappearing into the hallway, heels clacking on the tiled floor. Huh. The world was full of interesting coincidences, it seemed. If a woman like her was wearing the same perfume you were, maybe you could pull off that kind of mature, confident atmosphere.

Just as you’re about to return to your computer, the head editor calls you over. When you reach his desk, he hands you a small tan envelope. He gestures for you to open it, and inside you find two vouchers for a dinner and hotel stay package. With a laugh, he answers your confused look before you have a chance to find the words.

"Take it as a reward for your hard work on the presentation! I can’t offer you a bonus this quarter, so please. I can’t use them anyway - I guess Mizushima-san didn’t know."

"Mizushima-san?"

"The lady who just visited. She’s working with us on the company’s latest project, and gave me these vouchers as a sign of goodwill. Anyway, feel free to take them."

You thank him gratefully and try not to noticeably skip back to your seat. When you take out the vouchers again for a better look, something small and white also falls onto your keyboard. A business card? Curious, you flip it over to read the name.

_Mizushima Akane. Head of Financial Planning at XX Consultations._

A cold shiver runs down your spine. You know someone else who works at that company, in that very department. "Akane" no longer seems like a common name. 

You wish it were.

✥✥✥✥✥

"Tadao! You haven’t forgotten our fourth anniversary, right? I’ve got a surprise planned, so you better keep your schedule open Friday night!"

"Of course, I’m looking forward to it!"

You heave a sigh and fall backwards into your pillow, your phone gently bouncing out of your hand onto the mattress. He sounded so normal in his messages, the usual nice and hard-working Tadao you loved. Your first boyfriend, the one who would go with you to buy ice cream at 2am if you were craving it, the one who left sticky notes on the fridge filled with hearts for you to find in the morning.

You feel like a glass resting on the edge of a table: one wrong move, one accidental bump and everything ends up shattered in pieces on the ground. When did this all become so exhausting? The cold and empty space beside you offers no answer, the scent of tobacco embedded in his pillow making you scrunch your nose. You bite your lip and reach for it impulsively, stripping off the pillowcase and throwing it into the hamper before stretching and heading to the kitchen. Times like this called for a relaxing night of snacking white watching your favorite show in bed.

✥✥✥✥✥

Tadao isn’t sure what to expect for the night when you tell him to dress up nicely and you walk into the living room looking like an expensive date. He takes the hint though, and picks out a nice dress shirt and tie.

It’s not until you two arrive and get out of the rideshare that he realizes. The ritzy exterior of the hotel, usually a sign of a breathless night, now feels like a stab to the chest. Feet heavy, he follows you inside the glass doors and hopes she isn’t here tonight.

Of course, ten minutes into your dinner and the two of you are interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Welcome, I hope you’re enjoying yourselves! You must be the one the head editor gave the vouchers to, yes?"

Tadao looks up from his plate to see Akane in all her usual glory, smiling as she introduces herself. Why was she here, talking to you in front of him? He feels a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck. Was she seriously going to act on her previous threat? He thought he had been convincing enough that night.

"Thank you for the gift, Mizushima-san." 

You smile politely, and he feels another jolt of dread coil in his stomach. How did you two know each other? Gift? Head editor? Vouchers? He glances at Akane only to see a glint in her eyes before responding to you.

"No problem! After all, my husband manages this hotel. And I didn’t know you two were dating!"

Tadao tries not to flinch in his chair, discreetly wiping the palms of his hands on his pants.

Naturally, you inquire, glancing at him. "How do you know each other?"

Akane doesn’t even let him speak.

"We work in the same office! He’s been working hard, you know? I’m glad you two are getting this chance to relax and enjoy!"

With a laugh and a wave, Akane sashays away.

The rest of dinner is relatively quiet. He knows the hotel’s food is delicious, but he can barely taste it. You don’t seem to have that much of an appetite either, opting to only eat a few bites of cake for dessert instead of your usual whole slice.

When you arrive in the room, you set down your purse and make a beeline for the window. It’s a nice suite, and the view of the city nightscape is beautiful. As you draw the curtains and admire the lights, Tadao reaches out to hug you from behind. It’s been a while since he’s held you like this, and he hopes you don’t hear his heart pounding.

After a few minutes of talking about the view, his phone buzzes in his pocket. He looks at you apologetically and moves away to check it, resisting the urge to curse. As if this night wasn’t nerve-wracking enough, Akane had to choose this moment to call him.

"Sorry, it’s from work. I’ll be right back, alright?"

You nod, and he swallows thickly before leaving the room, door swinging shut behind him.

"What is it?" Tadao hisses into the phone, walking down the hallway to avoid being overheard.

Then he hears it, her voice halting and choked with tears.

"My husband… he b-bought another h-house... without telling m-me... I - I think he might be moving out - "

"Don’t do anything, I’ll be right there!"

Tadao punches the elevator button, foot tapping impatiently until the doors slide open. Another button, and he’s on his way up.

Running out of the elevator, he knocks on the door urgently. 

"It’s open."

✥✥✥✥✥

As soon you hear the door close, you slump to your knees on the carpeted floor, cheek pressed against the cold glass window. A woman from work, the same perfume, the name Akane, the calls from work at all times of the day - and this hotel isn’t far from the host club.

You want to give Tadao the benefit of the doubt, you really do. But twenty minutes pass with no sign of him returning. You send him a quick text, but no response. Getting to your feet, you decide to look for him yourself - he wouldn’t have just left you in the hotel without telling you.

As you walk down the hallway, you pass by a bellboy. When you give him a description of Tadao and ask if he’s seen him tonight, he nods and gestures to the elevator.

"Boyfriend, hm? He was going up to the seventh floor, last I saw. Good luck!"

Heart pounding in your chest, you thank him and hurry towards the elevator. The smoothness of the doors and its ascent only serves to accentuate the way your fists tremble at your sides. You take a deep breath, the bite of your fingernails into your palms steadying you.

The doors slide open to reveal an empty, quiet hallway. You step out onto the floor and think. Why would he be on the seventh floor? Just to take a work call? Things aren't adding up.

You decide to try calling him again instead of just wandering around the floor. A sudden low buzzing catches you by surprise. As you try to pinpoint the sound, you find yourself in front of the third door on the right: Room 705.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact #4 - Both Akane and Tadao were named with meanings in mind. Can you guess their reasons?


	6. The Last Word

The buzzing doesn’t stop until you hang up after three rings. You have to check.

Fingers trembling, you press call again. Two seconds later, you hear the buzzing resume just behind the door. He’s in this room, and you know it.

Pulse thundering in your ears, you try the handle. It moves beneath your touch like a knife through butter, and you nearly back out in surprise. Then you hear rustling and soft murmurs, and you have to know, even if your heart is thudding painfully against your ribcage.

You swing the door open and see two people on the bed, the woman’s dark hair splayed out across the silken pillowcase, a familiarly clothed back above her. It feels like everything is in slow motion. The man turns his head and it’s him, the tie you bought for his birthday last year hanging loose off his neck, his blazer in a heap on the floor by the bed.

Your breath shudders in your chest as you recognize the woman beneath him, the light from the hallway highlighting her arms around his neck, his legs between hers. You feel like you’re drowning on land, the desperation of your own lungs clawing at your closing throat.

Your mind screams at you to run, and you obey without a second thought, door slamming shut behind you. Your heart is turning itself inside out, your head spinning as your body can’t decide whether to throw up or cry when your world is caving in.

Now isn’t the time for either, your brain commands. You can’t be here anymore, not on this floor where he is with her, not in this hotel where she is touching him like lovers do. Anywhere but here.

You can’t be bothered to wait for the elevator as you hear him yelling your name, so you run for the stairs. The sound of his feet pounding down the flights of stairs urges you down, down, down until you’re finally outside. You rest your hands on your knees, bent over as you gasp for breath, but you know you have no time.

Scanning the surroundings, you run down the street and whip around the corner when you see a familiar face that floods your heart with relief.

✥✥✥✥✥

Kuroo scans the street as he converses with the guy in charge of sign duty tonight. No incidents, no odd solicitors. Satisfied, he is about to turn around and head back inside when he sees a disheveled woman dash around the corner.

Just as he is about to call out, she makes a beeline for him.

“Leo, I need a place to hide from my boyfriend. Now. Please.”

Kuroo feels his heart stop in his chest as he recognizes you, arms frozen in place as you grip his left hand. What could have made you look so panicked, eyes wide and hair askew, your nice clothes a rumpled mess?

You squeeze his hand, gasping for air, and he jumps into action. Asking the sign guy to cover for him inside the club, Kuroo quickly ushers you into the club entrance for staffers and sits you down in a backroom. For now, he hopes this will be unlikely enough of a place for you to hide.

He offers you a bottle of water, and you manage a few gulps before setting it down beside you. 

After a few long moments, Kuroo is about to ask what happened when you start speaking, clenching the fabric over your thigh.

From the underwear to the hotel, you explain what happened, voice halting and sharp as if you can't quite believe it yourself. Kuroo feels a bolt of fury lance through him at the thought of you, funny, beautiful, cat-loving, and sweet, having to experience all this. His jaw clenches. He gave you that advice as if he knew what he was talking about, and now things end up like this. If only he had realized about Akane-san earlier, if only he had told you to confront your boyfriend sooner - 

Kuroo shuts down that train of thought, bitterly stomping it out with the heel of his shoe like a cigarette butt. He knows there is no right answer, and nothing you or he could have done would have meant this wouldn’t have happened.

As you finish recounting the night, your knuckles whiten and he instinctively reaches out before freezing in mid-air. You might not appreciate his touch as comforting, and he would be out of line doing so, especially here.

He doesn’t know quite what to say, the silence deafening. It doesn’t make sense to apologize, and he doesn’t know enough about you to provide you with true comfort. So he decides to offer you what he can, hoping it makes a difference.

Letting out a deep exhale, Kuroo gets to his feet and looks down at you, your eyes still trained on your lap.

“I’ll walk you home when I’m done with my shift. It’ll be about two hours, is that alright?”

You look up and nod, and he ruffles your hair before heading out to talk to the manager, your indignant cry in protest bringing a smile to his face. If you had that kind of energy, you’d be alright.

The remaining two hours of his shift go by in a blur, his thoughts occupied with you. Since the manager agreed to keep you company, he knew you would be fine. But his mind keeps replaying the look in your eyes as you asked him for help, the way your breath shuddered as you recounted the evidence that seemed so glaringly obvious and painful in retrospect. You were probably blaming yourself for being in denial for so long, but he couldn’t fault you for that. A four year relationship was nothing to sneeze at.

Finally the crowd begins to thin out, the music winding down, and Kuroo wraps up with the other hosts before hurrying to the backroom. Opening the door, he sees you staring at your phone, the manager now out with the rest of staff.

“What’s up?” He tries to sound nonchalant, taking a seat next to you. You show him your phone screen.

_Please, let’s talk. I’ll be waiting at home._

An hour ago. He looks over at you to ask what you want to do, but you’re already typing.

_Fine._

You set your phone down on the table with a clatter and manage a small smile at him, but your fingers are trembling. Ignoring his earlier decision, Kuroo grasps your hand, willing it to steady.

“It’s going to be ok.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact #5 - In an old version of this chapter, Kuroo picks you up on his bike and the two of you try to make it home without getting caught by the police for double-riding a bike. You keel over laughing when he shows up and he lightly punches you in the arm. Fun times.


	7. Chaser

It’s not ok.

After changing clothes, Leo escorts you back to your apartment. The walk is quiet, his footsteps tapping out a comforting rhythm against the pavement as you try not to think too hard about the imminent confrontation. Just as you manage to unlock and open the door, a strong odor of alcohol wafts out. 

You hear a thud, a muffled curse, and then see your boyfriend, clearly drunk, stumble towards you. He hasn’t been this far gone in a long time, and a spark of anger cuts through as you wonder why he’s the one wallowing in alcohol when you’re the one who was cheated on.

"Who’z he? Have - have you been bringing men to the - the apar’ment?" Tadao slurs, accusatory as he slumps against the hallway wall, loosely stabbing the air with a finger pointed in Leo’s general direction.

With all the strength in your body, you take a deep breath to center yourself and swing the door all the way open.

"Get out. We’re over, you bastard."

He laughs. "As if you’re anything without me. You won’t last. He’ll leave you too, you know."

You bang the door and angrily jerk your thumb towards the stairs. 

"Leave. Don’t make me repeat myself."

Tadao straightens up somehow and smirks. "This is my apar’ment too, you can’t kick me out."

Feeling your throat squeeze with anger, you glare at him, disgust clear as you try your hardest not to cry. He stumbles at the intensity of your gaze and backs down. 

"Alright fine, I have another place to stay. Who wants to be in this trash can anyway," he grumbles. 

Leo keeps a sharp eye on Tadao as he passes by, his footsteps echoing on the stairs. Silence reigns for a few lengthy moments, before you turn around and enter your apartment. 

"Please, come in. It’s a mess, but it’s home." You slip off your shoes by the doormat and wave him inside.

"Are you sure?" Leo hesitates in the doorway, obviously concerned about entering your apartment at night like this.

"Of course, now come on, shut the door behind you." You head towards the veranda door, sliding it open to ventilate the place. Leo shuffles into the living room behind you.

✥✥✥✥✥

The two of you end up having tea on the small balcony, leaning against the iron railing as you contemplate the stars. Cool night air brushes against his cheek, the rustling of trees in the distance like a roaring whisper in the quiet.

"Is it ok for you to stay? Sorry I didn’t ask first."

"It’s alright, I have the day off tomorrow."

Offhandedly, you note that he’s a good person. Kuroo laughs, a hint of self-deprecation creeping into his voice. Apparently he’s still an open book, because you turn to him and insist.

"I can prove it. After all, you helped someone like me."

Kuroo frowns at this. 

"What do you mean, someone like you?"

Fiddling with your cup, you return your gaze to the night sky.

"I mean, I haven’t forgotten. You’re a host, I’m just a customer. Is it really ok to spend your precious free time off with me?"

"It’s because it’s my free time that I want to be here. With you. Not because you’re a customer. I’m not here as a host... if that’s alright with you."

The words don’t come out the way he hoped they would, smooth and sweet. Instead he finds himself grasping to explain himself, heat uncharacteristically rising on his cheeks. 

"Of course, I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else right now."

Your words are warm, and the soft smile that reaches your eyes gives him a surge of blind courage. Before he can stop himself, he opens his mouth. 

"Call me Kuroo. That’s my actual name." 

You smile and repeat it, his name somehow sweeter rolling off your tongue. He suddenly swallows thickly, at a loss for words. Laughing, you clink your cup with his, taking another sip while looking out at the moon.

After a few moments, your breathy laughter collapses into tears and you sink to the ground, cup clattering hollowly against the concrete. Kuroo moves to sit down next to you but looks away to give you some privacy. 

"Kuroo… can I borrow your shoulder?" You mumble.

"Of course. You can have both of them if you want."

That made you laugh a little.

"Just one is fine, thanks."

You quietly lean against him, muffling your sobs with your hands. For a second Kuroo hesitates, then curls his arm around you and pulls you close into his chest. 

The moon is painfully beautiful tonight, he thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact #6 - I only realized when I started writing this chapter that I forgot to use swear words after including it as a warning/tag. So I dropped one in the chapter.
> 
> Fun Fact #7 - I rewrote this entire series after making a change in how I developed Tadao's character and background. Needless to say, this series took quite some time to write.
> 
> Fun Fact #8 - Did you catch the moon symbolism in the series? I wrote the last line of this chapter with a specific meaning in mind: I hope someone catches what I was referencing. It makes the ending more bittersweet, I think.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed OTR! <3


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